


Stormsong

by Ellenar_Ride



Series: Mending Links [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening, The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages, The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Seasons
Genre: Alternate Title: Why You Don't Sit On A Lake In A Thunderstorm, Character Study, Gen, Mending Links 'Verse, Pretty sure Myth has PTSD, Song Lyrics, and definitely some sort of anxiety?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-01-31 04:04:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21439927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellenar_Ride/pseuds/Ellenar_Ride
Summary: Lightning strikes near the shore, and Myth's mind blanks. For a moment, he's sixteen again, stranded on a little boat in the middle of a vast ocean, thunder rumbling overhead, lighting sparking and crackling anddancing around the mast.The spidery scars on his back and shoulders itch and his eyes burn with tears he just can't suppress.(Prompt: Thunder and Lightning)
Series: Mending Links [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545610
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	Stormsong

**Author's Note:**

> Quick word of warning: Myth spends a lot of this piece (basically the entire thing) having an anxiety attack/dissociating. Please don't distress yourselves!

Myth's hands tremble. His hands tremble so bad he fumbles and drops his sword instead of setting it down. It's not _just _his hands, either—it's also his forearms, and his elbows, and his upper arms, and even his shoulders. His legs are unsteady when he takes a step back; his knees give out and he falls. His right hand comes down on the blade of his sword, and flesh parts down to bone.

He doesn't feel it. There's so much adrenaline in his system right now, he doubts he'd feel an arrow in the gut. He only knows it happens because he sees it. It's all he can do to tear off his soaked outer tunic and wrap it around his bleeding hand until it forms a ball. He tucks his wrapped hand under his chin, tilting his head down to put pressure on it, and leans back against the mast of his little raft.

<strike>Marin</strike>'s song dances through his mind.

_Fade away_  
_In the gray  
_ _Of an unknown dream_

Myth likes sailing. So of course, when given a free day—no chores, no responsibilities, nothing—he'd borrowed Sav's raft and put himself out to drift in the middle of their lake. It's small, half a mile long and a quarter at its widest point, but it's enough to feel free. Sometimes Way joins him, but not today.

He was sleeping on the raft when the storm rolled in. He woke up to rain on his face and thunder in the distance, and just panicked.

_Where the sea_  
_Swallows me_  
In the stream

Lightning strikes near the shore, and Myth's mind blanks. For a moment, he's sixteen again, stranded on a little boat in the middle of a vast ocean, thunder rumbling overhead, lightning sparking and crackling and _dancing around the mast._ The spidery scars on his back and shoulders itch and his eyes burn with tears he just can't suppress.

With his head titled down, his hair hangs in front of his face, blowing into his eyes. It's a familiar shade of purple-blue—he and Wash spent _forever_ mixing the dye until it looked just right.

_Please never forget_  
_The adventure and the dreams we had_  
_I'll fade, it is my fate_  
_Farewell, dear Hero_

Shouldn't his hair be strawberry? He clearly remembers it being a vivid shade of red when he washed up on <strike>Koholint</strike>, because by some odd coincidence it was the exact same shade as <strike>Marin</strike>'s. She even agreed that it was funny, once he explained.

But it's blue.

It's blue, because he's not in That Place. It's blue, because he's nineteen and armed to the teeth and living in a Hyrule he doesn't know. It's blue, because he's _not dreaming._

_Let the Light_  
Be your guide  
As you sail away

His sword, still stained with his blood, sparks with electricity. He yelps and kicks it off the raft and into the lake. He'll regret that later, probably, but right now his foot and ankle are going numb and it's harder than ever to keep his mind in the present. It's not real damage; he's wearing his Green Holy Ring (he never takes it off he can never be without it he can't deal with electricity again _he can't)._ His mind is playing tricks on him.

He's not far from the house. The lake is half a mile long. He's in the middle. A couple hundred feet to the shore, then bolt to the house. He can do it. So why is he still sitting in the middle of the lake, anxiety choking his thoughts?

_I can make_  
_And can take_  
_A new day_

Something taps Myth's ankle, and he practically jumps out of his skin. He looks down, frantic, and it's Sav. Sav, in his Zora Greaves and Topaz Earrings, treading water. His mouth is moving, but Myth can't hear him over the wind, the thunder, the _lightning, _his own pulse pounding in his head.

Sav frowns, presumably at his lack of response, and grabs the raft and starts to push it towards the nearest shore. Myth doesn't move, except to twist his head enough to keep sight of Sav. Sav wasn't on <strike>Koholint</strike>, so if Sav is here Myth can't be there.

They reach the shore, and Myth doesn't move, can't move, until Sav grabs a fistful of his sopping wet undershirt and tugs. Myth has no inclination—or strength—to resist, and stumbles mindlessly behind the blond.

_Away from the light_  
_Yes, this dream will have to end tonight_  
_They'll fade, it is their fate_  
_Farewell, brave Hero_

As soon as they step into the house, Tracks and Ages are there throwing towels at them. Sav scolds them and wraps the towels around Myth _properly,_ leaving his wrapped hand free, and sits him down between Wolf and Major to warm up while he dries off himself.

Doc spots the blood starting to soak through his impromptu bandage and demands to know what happened even as he starts to unwrap it for treatment.

"Fell," Myth says. His voice doesn't even sound like his own anymore. "On my sword."

The room falls silent.

_Friend of mine_  
_It is time_  
_To say our last goodbyes_

Myth can't handle the silence, so he clings to the only person he can reach—Major. He clutches the oldest Link's tunic, curls into his sturdy frame, and buries his face in his shoulder. His right arm stretches away from his ball of safety, so he does his best to dissociate from it. It's not his arm, it doesn't exist.

His shoulders are still shaking. He can't. Stop. Crying. Major's tunic is wet with a mix of lakewater, rainwater, and tears.

_Hold my hand_  
_Dearest friend_  
_This dream dies_

Major's arm settles on his back, pressing against his shoulderblades. Wolf shifts closer, leaning his weight into Myth's side, heavy enough to skirt past the discomfort of light touch. No-one speaks.

Slowly, Myth begins to piece himself back together.

**Author's Note:**

> ... why does everything I touch turn to angst?
> 
> The lyrics in this piece are from Alice Flare's lovely cover of _Ballad of the Windfish_. If you haven't heard it before, go listen. It's beautiful. I cried.
> 
> NEW LINKS  
Tracks - Hero of Spirit (Spirit Tracks)*  
Ages - Hero of Ages (Hyrule Warriors)**  
Doc - The Sundered Hero (Four Swords)***  
Wolf - Hero of Twilight (Twilight Princess)
> 
> *Hero of Trains is a dumb title, so I went with the alternative title the internet offered me.  
**I choose to mentally swap the canon status of HW and Triforce Heroes, so we get Ages. His title was also the result of Google.  
***Couldn't find any sort of title for this guy, so I made it up.


End file.
